Collision Course
by illman
Summary: Stranded in the middle of nowhere with killers on their track, Jake and Leslie must put their differences aside to survive.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Collision Course

Author: hexicode aka illman

Fandom/pairing (if appropriate): Republic of Doyle, canon pairings

Summary: Stranded in the middle of nowhere with killers on their track, Jake and Leslie must put their differences aside to survive.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't see on the show.

Disclaimers: The characters and settings aren't mine. No profit is being made, this is for entertainment only.

A/N: Not sure how happy I am with this story, although I did have fun writing it. But since this fandom really needs more fic, I decided to post it anyway. It is finished, I'm just need to edit the remaining chapters now. Oh, and by the way, I'm not a native English speaker nor have I ever been to Canada, so despite my best efforts to get things right, I probably messed up here and there.

oOo

Leslie Bennett sighed when her mobile phone rang just as she had lifted the first fork full of her lunch. When she saw the name displayed, she sighed once again and a frown appeared on her face. Putting down the fork, she reluctantly picked up the phone and accepted the call.

"What do you want?" she asked curtly, without bothering the greet her caller. It had been over a week since she'd last heard from Jake Doyle which was quite unusual. He normally found ways to just show up wherever she was. Sometimes she thought he did that just because it annoyed her.

"Oh, I just thought it's been a while," Jake's cheerful voice came over the line. Now Leslie was sure that he needed her to do something for him.

"What do you want?" she repeated her earlier question with more force than necessary.

"I need you." There was a pause. "You, as in, the police. Although you yourself, preferably without..."

"What kind if trouble are you in now?" she asked.

"No, no. I'm not in any trouble. In fact, I have something that might interest you."

"What's that?" Leslie's voice softened. Jake had a knack of walking into trouble, but he was also good at his job. He had solved several cases that had puzzled the police not just in St. John's. That sketch he'd recovered somehow just the other week had been the subject of an international search. Of course, he had denied having anything to do with the sudden appearance of the sought sketch at the station, she was sure that he was involved, if only because he had been at the consulate party. How he'd gotten invited that that was another one of those mysteries.

Jake's voice pulled her back into the present when he said.

"I can lead you to the people cooking up that new designer drug - Mercury."

Leslie was speechless for a second. The existence of Mercury, a new designer drug that had caused several deaths in recent weeks among the town's partying crowd hadn't been made public yet. It was strictly need to know information.

"How do you even know..." Leslie began, but then changed her mind. She doubted very much that Jake would give her a straight answer to that question. Instead, she asked: "Is this information reliable?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure it is," Jake confirmed.

As much as she doubted the quality of Jake's sources if only because of the people he usually associated with, she couldn't afford to let this one slip by. Half the police officers in the city were trying to track down where that drug had come from.

"What do you need?" she asked.

"Well, as I said, there is you, preferably without your blouse and there's..."

"Jake, stop it!"

"Okay, seriously I need you. I would have tried the local police, but I doubt very much that they would believe me."

"Why does that not surprise me," Leslie said, rolling her eyes. Then Jake's words fully registered. "Where are you?"

"Foxtrap." Jake proceeded to read out the address of a motel.

At least that wasn't too far out of her jurisdiction, Leslie thought.

"And bring a chopper."

"What for?" Leslie managed after a pause, but Jake had already hung up.

oOo

Jake pocketed her cell phone and turned back toward the motel room where he had been staying for the last couple of days.

He had hardly walked inside when his client, Chris Henderson, asked: "And, are they sending someone?"

"Yes, she'll probably be here in an hour." Unless she decided to let me stew for a bit, Jake added mentally.

"And you are sure you can trust her?" Chris asked, resuming his agitated pacing.

"Yes, I trust her." Jake confirmed. It was true, he reflected, he would trust Leslie's integrity any day. Still, he wasn't so sure about her tender mercies these days. She was still pretty pissed off at him over the whole getting fired thing, Getting her job back hadn't seemed to help, nor had his recent investigative successes. Well, it wouldn't mean that he'd stop trying. She was sure to forgive him eventually. Although whether that would happen during his lifetime, he wasn't so certain. For now anyways, he was back to babysitting his nervous client, who was sure that they were both dead men anyway, making the question of Leslie's forgiveness a moot point.

oOo

Despite her irritation at Jake over his recent behavior. Recent meaning, ever since she had met him, Leslie was too dedicated to her job to just blow Jake off. So she put her uneaten salad back into the fridge, signed again and made her way to the inspector's office. She wasn't going to organizing a helicopter just yet, not on the word of Jake Doyle, but she would have to leave word about where she was headed. The only question was how she was going to phrase her reason for going. The inspector cared only about clear-up stats, but still, it would probably be saver leaving Jake's name out of it if she could help it.

oOo

When there was a knock at the motel room door an hour later, Jake felt vastly relieved. Chris was starting to majorly get on his nerves. Alternating between gratitude and anxiety - gratitude because Jake had found hi girlfriend Sophia and anxiety because he was convinced that Sophia's family who opposed their relationship was going to come after them - Chris presence was very trying indeed. After spending most of the last week with him here in Foxtrap and the surrounding area, Jake was ready for a change and Leslie was always a welcome companion in his book.

"Hey Les-" he began as he opened the door. Instead of the face however, a fist greeted him, followed by a boot. Before Jake had a chance of recover from the double impact, a pair of arms attached to a guy way bigger than him grabbed a hold of him and he found himself smashed against the nearest wall.

A second guy, who was equally massive, made his way further into the tastelessly furnished room. Scanning the small space, he said: "She isn't here." Neither was his client, Jake observed. Lover-boy had probably retreated into the bathroom.

"Go check the bathroom," ordered the first thug, apparently marginally smarter than his companion. Then he turned his attention back to Jake. "Where is she?"

"Really, I have no idea who you are talking about," Jake protested and kneed the thug between the legs. Howling, the man let go of Jake's arms. As Jake had hoped, his accomplice turned around, just in time for Jake's fist to hit him on the nose. Unfortunately, the first thug had recovered enough at the point to grab Jake from behind, pressing his arm uncomfortably against Jake's throat.

"Want to rethink that answer?" Thug #2 growled and pulled a knife from his belt.

This could get ugly quick, Jake realized, just as outside, a car pulled up in the motel parking lot. Out of the corner of his eye, Jake could see Leslie getting out, looking pissed off.

The sound of the slamming car door was loud enough for the two intruders to notice. They had no way of knowing that Leslie was a cop, but even someone with an IQ below 80 had to realize that the motel room was facing the parking lot and that the door was currently wide open. Jake felt a tug at his neck and the goon not currently cutting into his air supply walked over to the door, probably intent on shutting it. Leslie, Jake observed, was still several steps away from it and clearly in no hurry. Not wanting to become the thugs' hostage any more than putting Leslie in danger, Jake decided that a distraction was in order.

"Tell me," he called out, somewhat hindered by the arm pressing against his throat. "How exactly are your parents related?" The man stopped in his tracks and turned around to face Jake. "I'd guess first cousins, but I don't think siblings are completely out of the running either," Jake taunted, making sure to keep his voice as loud as possible, not an easy feat when one couldn't breathe properly.

"What did you just say?" the man growled as he turned. Brandishing his knife, he slowly advanced on Jake.

"I said, if you kill me now, you'll never find out where Sophia is," Jake said.

"That's not what I heard," the thug holding him tightened his grip to the point where things were going to start getting unpleasant very soon.

Fortunately, it wasn't going to come to that, since at that moment, Leslie's voice rang out: "Hands in the air!" A second later, Leslie appeared in the doorway of the motel room, gun drawn and pointing at the trio.

"Now!"

Clearly possessing some common sense, the two intruders did as commanded. Jake was instantly released, drawing a deep breath.

"Leslie," he began, but was immediately cut off.

"Don't, Jake. I really don't want to know," she said, sounding more tired than angry.

oOo

Half an hour later, after they had given their statements and the local cops had finally arrested the two thugs, who as they learned, were well known to the police, Leslie turned her attention back to Jake and his silent client. Although she had been privy to the statement made by Jake regarding the incident at the motel, she didn't believe for a minute that Jake had had no idea what the two thugs had wanted. She didn't think that he local police had bought it either, but since neither Jake nor the thugs were willing to talk about it, they hadn't had much choice but to let the matter rest.

"What did they want?" she asked. When Jake hesitated, she added. "The truth, this time."

"All right," he agreed. "But not here, let's go outside."

Leslie raised an eyebrow at this request, but followed Jake and his client outside. Once they were clear of the building and on the side walk, Jake spoke. "They were looking for Sophia Andretti," he said. "She is Chris' fiancee," he explained, pointing to his client. "Her family doesn't approve of their relationship and when she suddenly disappeared, Chris hired us to find her, which by the way, we did. Turns out her family had shipped her off to stay with some relatives here in Foxtrap."

"Then where's your father?"

"He's taken Sophia back to town." At least one of them had been sensible then, Leslie decided. One of these days someone was bound to get hurt, really hurt. She just wished she could make Jake understand that before someone ended up dead. And if Jake had decided to mess with major drug dealers, that might be sooner rather than later.

"How do the drugs fit into all this or did you just call me out here to annoy me?"

"Leslie, I called you out here because I need your help to stop more people from dying," Jake said with unusual seriousness. "And because I though we could maybe get together tonight, you know after we've put away the bad guys," Jake added, grinning at her.

"Stop it, Jake. I'm here because you said you had important information, and that's it."

"Actually, it's me who has the information." For the first time, Chris spoke. "Jake has agreed to accept it as payment."

That was unexpected, but somehow Leslie wasn't surprised. Despite all his bone-headed antics, Jake knew how to do the right thing. Stop it, she ordered herself mentally. She couldn't afford to let Jake back in. Not if she wanted to keep her job and sanity intact. Just keep things between them strictly professional and maybe her life wouldn't fall apart all around her. Again.

oOo

Taking care of the formalities had consumed most of the afternoon, but by 4.30 p.m., Leslie, Jake, Chris and the pilot, a police sergeant by the name of Ryder, were airborne.

Leslie still had a vague feeling of unease which she chalked up to Jake's involvement in this case. Usually, Jake spelled trouble. But Chris Henderson's story sounded solid and had convinced not only her and but also the brass at the local station. Chris was probably only giving up the information because he thought it would keep his fiancee safe. As it turned out it was her two older brothers, suspected by the police to be crooks for a long time, who were behind the manufacture and distribution of Mercury. They fit the profile all right, both had drug related priors and one of them had a degree in chemistry.

"We should be coming up on the Andretti's land now," Ryder informed them.

"Which way did you say it was?" Leslie looked at Chris, who jerked his head to the left.

"Further along that stream," he told them. Leslie looked downwards through the window. The stream was barely visible among the dense tree cover. Only occasionally, the thin blue band peeked out from among the mass of green. Finding a building down there would be difficult, if not impossible. They could only hope that Chris had a good memory or they would never find the Andretti's cabin before nightfall.

The chopper followed the stream for another few minutes, before veering off to the east. Leslie had been looking out of the window the entire time and to her eyes, the spot where they left the river looked just like any other spot they had passed over during the past five minutes. She couldn't help but wonder whether Chris was making it all up. How could anyone possible recognize a spot from up here where they had been one time.

"We are coming up on the edge of the Andretti land now," Ryder announced. "Are you sure that the cabin is on their land?"

"Yes, I'm sure. We must have missed it," Chris said.

"All right we'll circle back for another pass," Ryder said.

The helicopter swung around and they were soon headed back toward the river.

Leslie, who had been scanning the ground attentively, was suddenly alerted by Jake's cry.

"Did you see-". He got no further before the chopper rocked hard, jolting violently her in her seat. The helicopter spun wildly, throwing its occupants from side to side with enough violence to leave bruises. Someone was wailing, probably Chris. As she was thrown about, Leslie caught sight of the pilot beside her, who was slumped over in his seat, unconscious by the looks of it. She had barely time to come to the conclusion that they really were screwed, when she smelt smoke.

"Something's-". She hardly got out the words when the spinning chopper sent her careening into the side window. The explosion of pain in her head was followed by blackness an instant later.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Jake woke to a hangover of epic proportions. At least that was his first thought when he regained consciousness. Memory, however wasn't long in coming and instead of the hazy remembrance of an evening spent drinking, images of something much more alarming flashed through his mind. He recalled having seen a bright flash coming from the ground, followed by something racing up towards the chopper. There had been in impact and then things had gone a little crazy. The chopper must have crashed, he realized as he opened his eyes. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was still inside the chopper, which was now on its side and he was looking up at a canopy of trees through the splintered remains of the side window. Suddenly smelling smoke, he turned his head, trying to get a better picture of his situation. He was lying half on his side, half on his back, still partially held by the seat restraints. Using his free hand, he worked the release and once free tried to get to his feet inside the wreckage. In doing so, he quickly realized that not only did the entire left side of his body, being the side he had landed on, hurt like hell, but also that his left arm was definitely broken. If Leslie could see him right now, he thought idly, then stopped in sudden realization. Leslie! She had been in the chopper with him. The thought instantly filled him with dread.

"Leslie!" he recalled out. "Leslie!" There was no answer. Ignoring the protests from his body, he struggled to climb out of the wreckage, the task hindered by his useless left arm. By the time he managed, his heart was pounding in his chest. He walked around to the front of the crashed chopper on shaky legs, calling out Leslie's name again, but all he found in the front of the cockpit was the body of their pilot. Jake knew the man was dead the moment he caught sight of his twisted body trapped half-way underneath a fallen tree, but he checked for a pulse nonetheless. The still body under his fingers was still warm, leading Jake to conclude that he couldn't have been knocked out for long. There was no sign of either Chris or Leslie anywhere in the wreckage.

"Leslie!" he called out again, checking the area around the chopper. It was at the foot of a small incline that he finally spotted her. Still calling her name, he more stumbled than ran down the incline, coming to a stop on his knees beside her still form. He gently brushed aside her light air and felt for a pulse. At first, he was shaking so much that he couldn't tell if he'd felt anything, but finally, he detected a beat beneath his fingers. It seemed somewhat thready, but Jake couldn't tell for sure. Letting out a breath he hadn't realize he was holding, he got reluctantly to his feet again. He loathed to leave Leslie, but he still had to find his client, Chris. It took a while, but in the end, Jake found him. Like the pilot, Chris Henderson was dead, killed in the crash.

oOo

The first thing Leslie became aware of was pain. Her head felt like a throbbing mass of agony and her right knee was not far behind. Going back to sleep seemed like a really attractive option right now, but there was something niggling at the back of her mind, telling her that there was something important she needed to remember before she went back to sleep. Groaning, she opened her eyes, but wherever she was, it was apparently completely dark as she couldn't see anything.

"Leslie?" a familiar voice sounded from somewhere close-by.

"Jake?" It figured that Jake would be somehow involved. He always was whenever there was trouble and the way she felt, there definitely was trouble. She only hoped that they hadn't gotten drunk at The Duke the previous night and done something regrettable.

"Thank god, you're awake!"

"What happened?" Leslie asked. "And why is it so dark in here?" As she tried to sit up, she realized that wherever she had woken up, it wasn't in a bed. The ground beneath her was hard and uneven.

"Jake?" she asked again when there was no reply. She had never known him to be at a loss for words before and frankly his silence, combined with everything else, was starting to worry her. Something was seriously wrong.

"You can't see anything?" Jake asked, his voice sounding unusually toneless.

"No," she replied quietly. If Jake, ever the optimist was worried, then something really had to be wrong. "It's not dark, is it?" she asked after a few moments.

"No, it's not," Jake confirmed. "I'm sorry."

"I figured you were involved." It came out more accusatory than she had intended.

"It's not like it's my fault we got shot out of the sky..."

The memory of the crash came back in a sudden, dizzying rush.

"Are you okay?" Leslie asked, interrupting Jake who was still talking.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you?"

A dry laugh escaped her. "Aside from the fact that I seem to be blind?" It would have been laughable hadn't their situation been so serious. "What about the radio in the chopper? Have you tried calling for help?"

"I already checked, it's busted. And of course, there is no cell service out here. Chris Henderson and Ryder are dead. It's just us now."

Leslie ignored him and quickly considered their options. The police in Manuels would miss them if they didn't return. They'd sent out a search party eventually. Logic dictated that they stay with the wreckage and wait for help to arrive. But if Jake was right and their crash had not been some freak accident, then they might not be safe here. There was a distinct chance that whoever had shot them down was going to try and locate the wreckage to make sure that they were dead. They needed to get out of here fast. It wasn't going to be easy, not with the shape she was in, but there was no time to worry about that now. The Andretti's could be here any moment.

"Jake, help me up." When nothing happened, she added, "Please. We need to get out of here."

For once, Jake made no innuendo-laden comment as he slipped an arm around her waist and helped her to her feet. Leslie tentatively put weight on her right foot, but the sharp pain shooting up her thigh told her that she wouldn't be able to walk on it.

"What's wrong?" Jake must have seen her wince.

"It's my knee, I must have twisted it in the crash."

"We really should stay put. You're in no shape to go anywhere, Leslie," Jake argued.

"It doesn't matter. If you're right and the someone shot down the chopper..."

"We definitely were shot down," Jake confirmed.

"Then the Andretti's will be here soon to make sure we're dead. We have to leave now, but you'll have to help me."

"I thought you'd never ask." Leslie could hear the satisfied smirk in his voice. It would just be like Jake to get some enjoyment out of their messed up situation, she thought angrily.

"Stop it, Jake. Just stop it! For once in your life, try and be serious! You treat everything like it's a game. Well, let me tell you this Jake Doyle, this is not a game. Two people are dead already and if we don't hurry, we'll be dead too, so just shut up!" It was only when she finished that she realized she had been yelling.

"All right, all right, just don't kill me, okay?"

Leslie was on the verge of another angry retort but stopped herself. Arguing with Jake wouldn't help them get out of this. Whether she liked it or not, she needed him right now. Besides, the yelling was only making her headache worse.

oOo

Jake was worried. He wouldn't admit as much to Leslie, but things were looking anything but good. They had been walking at a snail's pace for the better part of two and a half hours, with barely any progress to show for it. They didn't even know if they were headed in the right direction. For all they knew they might be walking straight toward the Andretti's cabin. Night had started to fall, slowing their progress further. With the heavy tree cover overhead, visibility on the ground was approaching zero. Eventually, they'd have to stop whether the Andretti's were after them or not. And it wouldn't be a moment too soon, as far as Jake was concerned. He had no idea how Leslie was even still on her feet, but he was starting to be seriously sore. What he had first thought were only bruises were now starting to feel more like a couple of cracked ribs. Every breath hurt. His broken arm throbbed with dull persistence. The only good thing about the pain was that it distracted him from his other worries. Like the matter of Leslie's head injury. For her to be blind like this, it had to be serious.

Jake was just about to broach the subject of stopping for the night when his foot caught on something. He pitched forwards, instinctively letting go of Leslie and reaching out both hands to brace his fall. He caught himself on his right arm, but his left immediately gave way under him. He lost his balance and rolled sideways, straight over the edge of a ravine.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

The fall came completely unexpected. One moment, Leslie had been concentrating her rapidly waning energies on hobbling, one tiny step at the time, the next she was being thrown forward, suddenly cut loose from her support. She came down hard on her side, twisting her already injured knee in the process. For a moment, pain was all her senses could register. There was nothing else. Gradually, the pain receded again to more tolerable levels. It still hurt like hell, but she could at least breathe again. They must have stumbled over a root or something, she realized belatedly while lying in the dirt and trying to catch her breath. She had no idea whether minutes or seconds had passed since the fall, but she was starting to wonder where Jake had gone to. He couldn't have hurt himself in the fall, could he? Or rather, he could, she realized numbly. She had not the faintest idea what the terrain looked like, there might be sharp rocks or who knew what else for Jake to knock himself out on. They should never have left the wreck behind. The thought had no sooner crossed Leslie's mind, when she heard what sounded like something moving in the distance. Maybe it was Jake? But it sounded awfully far away for it to be Jake. Leslie didn't move and listened intently.

"Shut up!" a gruff male voice ordered. "They must be here somewhere."

"You said that before!" a younger voice, also male, commented. "There is no one here. It probably was some animal or something..."

For a few moments, they were silent and all Leslie could hear was the rustling of leaves and the crunch of footfalls.

"You call this an animal?" the first voice barked suddenly.

"It's that damn PI, Doyle!" the second exclaimed.

"Stop!" The first one, obviously in charge, ordered.

"Are you crazy? Let's just finish him off and be done with it."

They were arguing about killing Jake, Leslie realized. There had to be something she could to do stop them. She felt for her service weapon. She wouldn't be able to actually aim at them, but they didn't know that. With a lot of luck, she might be able to scare them off without getting Jake or herself killed in the process. It was an insane thing to even consider, all that time spent in Jake's company had to be rubbing off on her, Leslie thought as she pulled her gun out of the holster. It definitely wasn't protocol, but desperate times did call for desperate measures. Propping herself up one elbow, she raised the gun and fired skyward.

"Shit!" one of them, Leslie couldn't tell which, cursed. An instant later, several shots rang out. Unbidden images of Jake's body lying in a heap on the forest floor, half of his head blown off, rose in Leslie's mind, threatening to turn her stomach. Leslie swallowed hard and squeezed off two more shots. There was no backing down now.

"Over there, up on the ridge!"

Leslie never heard the shot the followed, only feeling the explosion of pain as it struck its target.

oOo

"Can you try calling him again?" Sophia Andretti asked, for what seemed like the tenth time in the past hour. Mal and Sophia had driven back to St. John's where, as it had been agreed, they were going to wait for Jake to return with Chris once Sophia's older brothers were safely behind bars. As soon as they were reunited, the young couple was going to leave for Toronto, where, hopefully, they would be able to be together openly, unhindered by her family. It had been a long and tiring case. Mal hadn't seen Rose in several days and was itching to finally get home, but slowly, Sophia's incessant worrying was beginning to affect him. It was going on midnight and he hadn't heard from Jake since they'd left Foxtrap around lunchtime. He'd first tried to call him for on update, mainly at Sophia's insistence, around 6 p.m., but hadn't been able to reach Jake. Since then, he'd tried several more times to get through to his son, to no avail. Sophia had tried Chris' cell phone dozens of times as well, with an equally unsatisfying result. He'd even called Leslie Bennett around 9, thinking that Jake might have contacted her for help. But Leslie hadn't picked up any more than Jake and Chris had. Eventually, he'd called Rose, told her not to wait up and resigned himself to spend the evening at the office with an increasingly frantic Sophia Andretti for company.

Sophia stopped pleating and un-pleating the fringes of her black and white scarf and started pacing.

"Look, Sophia, Jake and Chris are probably spending the night at the motel in Foxtrap. There is no point in waiting up," Mal argued, but his heart wasn't in it. He too couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't heard from the two men. Jake could be impulsive and stubborn, but he wouldn't just take off while they were working on a job. Besides, there was always Chris. By all accounts, he would have called Sophia to let her know of any change in plans. And why were neither of them answering their mobiles?

Sophia shook her head stubbornly. "Something's wrong, I'm sure of it. We need to do something!"

Unfortunately, he was starting to agree with her. There was little he could do though motel or the Manuels police station who knew what had become of the two men.

"All right, I'm going to call the motel. They should be able to tell us if they checked out."

Sophia nodded. She sat back down, seemingly at least somewhat reassured. Five minutes later, after tracking down the phone number of the motel, Mal was on the phone with the wife of the proprietor. She was none too pleased, but as it turned out, it wasn't so much the late-night call, as the guests in question themselves. In particular, she had taken exception to their visitors.

oOo

Once he'd learned about the incident at the motel, Mal had immediately phoned the Manuels' police station to make further inquiries. It was entirely possible, he thought as he waited to be put through, that the Andretti's thugs had caught up with Jake and his client. After the arrest of their friends, they wouldn't feel to warm-hearted towards the men they perceived to be responsible. Jake could hold his own in a fight, god knew it happened frequently enough, but if Chris was to be believed, the Andretti's were serious criminals, not just your garden variety small timers. He nervously drummed his fingers on the surface of the desk, wondering what was taking so long.

Finally, a voice came over the line. "Sergeant Granger here, who am I speaking to?"

Mal repeated his name and the purpose of his call.

"Are you related at all to Jake Doyle?" the sergeant asked.

"Yes, he's my son. What's going on?"

"I best connect you to the inspector. He'll want to speak to you," the sergeant said cryptically, leaving Mal frowning in puzzlement on the other end. Before he got a chance to ask what this was all about, the sergeant had forwarded the call. It was picked up after only one ring.

"Mr Doyle?" a make voice asked.

"Yes, can someone please tell me what's going on?" Mal demanded angrily, his increasing worry making him short-tempered.

"Of course, Mr Doyle. I understand that Jake Doyle is your son?"

"Yes, he is. Is he in any sort of trouble?"

"No, he is not in trouble. However, he was on board a police helicopter that we have reason to believe might have met with an accident."

"An accident?" Mal echoed tonelessly. After a few moments, he asked, a glimmer of hope still alive, "So you don't know?"

"All we know for sure at this moment is that the helicopter is missing. Due to a technical fault on our end, radio contact was lost shortly after take-off. The fault has since been repaired, but we have been unable to reestablish contact with the chopper. Unfortunately, we only have an approximate idea of where they were going, but I assure you that we are doing everything we can to find your son and the others."

Mal's heart sank. He was used to Jake attracting trouble, but nothing like this. There was a very real chance that Jake's luck had finally run out.

"The others? Who else was on board?" Mal forced out, needing to know.

"Aside from the officer piloting the plane, there were three passengers: your son, a young man named Christian Henderson and a Sergeant from St. John's," the inspector replied.

"That wouldn't be Sergeant Bennett? Sergeant Leslie Bennett?" Mal asked with a sigh. It figured.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

This time, it was just his head that hurt as if he were coming off a week-long bender. Jake's entire body felt as if he'd been put through the meat grinder. Still half unconscious, Jake tried to shit into a more comfortable position, only to find that he could move neither his arms nor his legs. Sufficiently alarmed, he opened his eyes, only to find himself staring straight into Leslie's face. Not the worst way to wake up, he decided, although he was seeing double. The circumstances clearly left to be desired. In fact, they left a lot to be desired, he realized with a sinking feeling gripping his insides. Spreading out from underneath Leslie's head, was a dark pool. The coppery scent of blood hanging in the air confirmed Jake's suspicions.

"Leslie?" he asked, his voice coming out shakier than he'd expected. It was too dark for him to judge the exact extent of her injuries, but what little he could see, didn't look good.

"Leslie, come on, wake up!" he tried again a little more forcefully.

Leslie groaned weakly, but didn't open her eyes. Marginally relieved, Jake tried to sit up. With his ankles tied together, his wrists bound behind his back and one broken forearm in the mix it was not an easy task. By the time he finished, he was shaking with exhaustion and pain. His side felt like someone had lit a bonfire under his skin. Looking around, he could make out the outlines of a small room. It appeared to be a shed of some kind. He could make out a stack of crates piled up in one of the corners and there was a shelf lining the wall to his right. Above the shelf was a row of small windows through which dim light filtered into the room. It must be dawn or close to it outside, Jake realized. That meant he had been out for quite some time. He probably had a concussion, what with the double vision and lingering dizziness. He couldn't recall how he'd ended up in the shed, but as they were tied up, he doubted that answer would be good. The last thing he recalled was trekking through the forest with an injured Leslie Bennett in the hopes of finding help. Someone had obviously found them, but in view of their current state of affairs, help was unlikely to be forthcoming from their hosts.

He scooted closer to Leslie. "Leslie? Come on, Leslie?"

"Not now, Jake." She didn't open her eyes, but it was a start. "Jake?" she queried a few seconds later. "What's going on?" She tried to move, but was hindered by the tape binding her wrists and ankles.

"Well, it looks like we're trapped in a shed."

"The Andretti's?"

Jake shrugged, then remembered that Leslie couldn't see.

"I don't know. I don't...well, I don't exactly remember how we got here."

"Are you okay?" Leslie asked, alarm in her voice.

"Yeah, of course," Jake answered quickly, not sure who he was trying to convince, Leslie or himself. He didn't sound convincing to his own ears and doubted very much that he did to Leslie's. But while he had expected her to argue, she remained silent, simply lying there on the wooden floorboards. He thought of asking if she was all right, but they both knew she wasn't. Since neither of them could do anything about it, he didn't ask. Instead, he scooted closer to her until his hands were touching hers.

"Jake, this isn't the time," she protested, sounding as weary as Jake felt.

"Can you free my wrists like that?" Jake asked, gazing over his shoulder.

"I'll try," she promised.

oOo

"Ow!"

"What's wrong?" Leslie asked, stopping in her attempts to loose the robust tape that had been used to bind Jake's wrists together.

"It's nothing," Jake replied, but it came out strained. Leslie was sure that he was in pain and trying to hide it.

"That didn't sound like nothing," Leslie replied tersely but resumed her painstaking task. "Don't try to pretend that you're not hurt."

"I get that you're pissed at me for getting us into this mess. You always said that one day I'd get someone hurt and it looks like I've finally proven you right," Jake began, but Leslie cut him short.

"I think I've got a piece of the tape, but I can't unwrap it all the way. Try moving your arms a bit."

Leslie could hear a sharp wince, but Jake did as asked.

"You're shaking," she commented.

"Must be your formidable presence," Jake quipped.

"Stop it, Jake. Contrary to what you may think, you're not invincible. They hurt you, didn't they?"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd actually think you were worried about me."

The problem wasn't that she didn't worry about Jake. Quite the opposite, she worried and cared far too much, far more than was good for her. She had been trying to be angry at Jake, and part of her probably still was, for all the trouble he'd gotten her into, but a far greater part kept forgiving him. Now it looked it she had forgiven him once too often. If she had only listened to her head and not her heart, she wouldn't have come running when he'd telephoned. Then neither of them would be in this mess right now, a mess that neither of them might get out of alive.

"Leslie, are you okay?" Jake asked anxiously.

"I'm sorry," Leslie blurted out, the feelings she had tried so hard to suppress bubbling to the surface.

"About what?" He sounded genuinely puzzled.

"For being so angry at you the last few weeks," she replied. Her head was screaming at her to shut up, not to let Jake Doyle back in, but her heart had other ideas.

"You've had good reason to be angry," Jake finally admitted.

Leslie ignored him. "I'm tired, I'm tired of having to be angry at you all the time. But I'm afraid if I stop being angry at you, we'll both get hurt."

"You mean like the mess we're in now?" Jake asked and Leslie could have sworn she heard a faint smirk in his voice. "This isn't your fault, you know," he continued more seriously. "I'm sorry I got you into this. I'd do anything to change that." Leslie had the feeling that he meant it.

"Let's just focus on getting both of us out of here for now" she finally replied, after a long pause

oOo

It felt like it took forever, but eventually, they managed to free Jake's wrists. Once that was accomplished, he used his good hand to quickly free his ankles as well, before undoing Leslie's bonds. When she made no move to sit up, Jake, without saying a word, helped her into a sitting position, with her back braced against the wall.

"That better?" he asked quietly. Neither of them needed to spell out the obvious. Even if they managed to get out of this place, Leslie wasn't going to go anywhere under her own power.

Leslie nodded, wincing as she did so.

"Your head?"

She nodded again, more carefully this time.

"I'll have a look around," Jake announced. "I doubt they left anything useful here for us, but you never know." He carefully got to his feet, part of him glad that Leslie couldn't see how guarded his movements were as he tried to avoid jarring his injured ribs.

He spoke out loud as he moved around the small room, trying the door and cataloging the few items on the shelves and in the crates. Leslie periodically answered, but he couldn't help but notice that her answers were rather monosyllabic. He himself wasn't feeling too great either, every breath seemed to provoke pain from his ribs, his side was on fire and that concussion he'd thought he might have? Well, he definitely had it. He'd be lucky if he didn't throw up. His reflections were interrupted when he heard a scratching sound coming from the direction of the door. Before he could move into a potentially advantageous position however, the door opened. Two men stood in the opening, one of whom Jake recognized from a photograph of the Andretti brothers that his client had shown him.

"Told you they wouldn't stay put," Andretti remarked laconically to his companion. Said companion walked over to Jake, grabbing him by his injured arm. Jake would probably still have taken a swing at him, had it not been for the gun pointed at him by the other man.

"Where is she?" Andretti demanded.

"I don't know how you're...ow!" Jake yelped when he broken arm was twisted.

"Care to rethink that answer?"

"Not...particularly," Jake ground out as his arm was twisted once again, biting his lip in an effort not to scream.

"Leave him alone!" Leslie suddenly called out. Her drawing attention to herself was the last thing Jake wanted, even less than that thug twisting his injured arm.

"Well, well, well. Maybe you'll be more inclined to answer us if we hurt her instead," Andretti said with a malicious grin spreading over his face.

"No, don't hurt her." Jake said, thinking rapidly, but coming up empty.

"Aw, how nice!" Andretti mocked. He nodded to his companion. "Get the cop!", he said before turning his attention back to Jake. "Remember Doyle, we only need one of you to tell us where Sophia is."

The words gave Jake an idea. "I'll take you to Sophia if you let her go."

"Jake!" Leslie protested, but everyone ignored her.

"Why don't you just tell us where Sophia is?"

"Because then you'll have no use for either of us," Jake argued. "You get her help and then I'll take you to Sophia."

"You think I'm stupid?" Andretti laughed. "I'm not going to lead the cops straight here!"

"Then don't," Jake said, "Just take her to the nearest road and let her go."

When Andretti didn't reply, Jake went on, desperately. "Listen, she's blind, she can't walk, she won't be able to give you away. Just take her to the nearest road and I'll do what you ask." There would still be no guarantee that Leslie would be found in time, but it was the only way she at least stood a chance. Leslie would probably hate him forever for this one, provided they both lived long enough to worry about the repercussions.

"All right. But you try anything Doyle, she dies," Andretti said.

oOo

"Here, drink this." Rose put down a steaming mug in front of Mal. He nodded, without looking up. The news had hit him hard. He had hardly said two words since Rose had arrived with Tinny in tow several hours earlier. All he had done was stare at his phone, waiting for news. Rose felt for him. And the worst was that there was nothing they could do about it. All they could do was wait for word from the search teams. Rose took a sip from her own cup of coffee, looking around the office. Sophia was curled up on the couch, sleeping off the sedative Rose had given her. Tinny was half-sitting half leaning on one of the desks, flipping aimlessly through the channels on the office TV set, the sound turned off. Rose joined her.

"How are you holding up," she asked the girl.

Tinny simply shrugged and continued switching from one channel to the next.

"Why don't you go home, get some sleep. I promise I'll call you the minute we know something." Rose tried again.

"No, I'm staying here with Poppy and you," Tinny insisted.

"Wait!" Rose suddenly exclaimed. "Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"Go back one channel and turn on the sound."

Tinny did as she'd been asked. On screen was a female reporter with an official looking building in the background. On the the side was a small picture of a blonde woman, with a caption that read Sergeant Leslie Bennett.

"Official quarters have not yet released the identity of the helicopter passenger discovered alive shortly after 6 this morning, but sources close to the search have told us that it is police Sergeant Leslie Bennett, one of two officer confirmed to have been aboard the missing helicopter. Sergeant Bennett is reported to be in critical condition and is being transported to St. John's for medical treatment."

oOo

"I really shouldn't be doing this," Dr. Nikki Reynolds said, eying the door behind her doubtfully.

"Nikki, Mal and I wouldn't be asking you this if it weren't important," Rose said. "Leslie is the only person right now who might know what happened to Jake."

"All right, all right," Nikki's expression softened at the mention of her ex-husband's name. "Only one of you and only two minutes max. Also, if anyone should ask, this conversation never happened."

Rose looked questioningly at her husband. "Do you want me to do this?" she asked.

Mal shook his head. "No, I'll be fine. I promise."

He quietly slipped into the adjoining hospital room. Leslie occupied the bed closest to the door. Most of her was obscured by a large heating blanket - Nikki had said that they were trying to get Leslie's body temperature back up before they took her to surgery.

"Leslie?" he asked softly. She appeared to be asleep, possibly unconscious. Mal was starting to fear that they'd made the trip in vain and that Leslie wouldn't be able to tell him anything about where Jake was.

Just when he thought that Leslie hadn't heard him, she opened her eyes.

"Mal?" she queried.

"Yes, I...," Mal started, but Leslie went on as if she hadn't even heard him.

"I'm so sorry, Mal. I really am."

Mal froze. He had known all along that there was a distinct possibility that Jake had been killed in the crash, assuming that was what had happened. It was just that, when he'd heard that Leslie had been found alive, he had allowed himself to hope that Jake too was out there somewhere. Now Leslie's condolences were quickly tearing down that particular hope.

"I never should have left him," Leslie was saying.

"You did what you had to do," Mal said, feeling the sudden urge to say something comforting.

"No," Leslie's reply was forceful. "I should have stopped him!"

Stopped him? That didn't make any sense. He thought that she was talking about abandoning Jake's dead body at the crash site. After all, she had been found in the at the side of a dirt road in the woods, according to Nikki.

"Stop him from doing what?" Mal questioned, that flicker of hope coming alive again.

"He...he told them he'd lead them to Sophia, if they'd let me go."

Mal was about to phrase reply when the door opened and a nurse strode in.

"What do you think you're doing here!" she exclaimed when she spotted Mal.

"I better be going," Mal remarked and hastily made for the door.

He could hear the woman muttering something about those damn reporters before he managed to escape into the hallway where Rose was waiting for him.

"Come on, we need to get back to the office," Mal told her before she had a chance to ask how things had gone with Leslie.

"What about Jake?" Rose asks, catching up with him.

"Later," he promised, pulling out his phone and dialing Tinny's mobile.

"Why isn't she answering?" Mal muttered frantically to himself, quickening his steps.

"Care to fill me in?" Rose asked, laying a steadying hand on her husband's arm.

"They're going after Sophia, and they got Jake," Mal told her as he climbed into the car.

"The Andretti's?" Rose had barely made it into the passenger seat before Mal drove off, tires screeching.

"Makes sense," he answered. "I only hope we're not too late."

oOo

Rose and Mal spent the drive back to the office in silence. It wasn't that Rose didn't have questions, but she knew better than to bother Mal with them now. There would be time for that later.

They were turning the last corner, when Rose spotted something light blue out of the corner of her eye.

"Did you see that?" Rose asked.

"See what?" Mal sounded absent-minded.

"I think I just saw Jake's car, parked right there in that driveway we just passed," Rose told him excitedly.

"That means they beat us to it. Did you see if anyone was inside the car?"

"Didn't look like it, but I didn't exactly get a good look," Rose said with a shrug.

"We better park out of sight," Mal said, driving past the building housing their office and into the next side road. He stopped the car and got out. Rose followed him.

"Stay here, keep and eye on the door and call Sergeant Hood," Mal told her. "Tell him to send some officers 'round."

"What about you?"

"I'm going up there,"

"No pal, you're not," Rose grabbed him by the arm.

"Don't, not now," Mal tried to shake her off. He turned to face his wife. "Please, I have to make sure that they're okay."

"And I..." Rose spoke no further, but suddenly pulled Mal down into a kiss.

"What...?"

"Don't turn 'round. There are two men, with Sophia, who just left the building."

"Quick, check the office! Make sure Tinny's okay," Mal said before taking off in a run, back in the direction of the car.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Mal jumped into the car, not bothering with the seat belt before he started the engine and drove back in the direction they'd come from. He made sure to keep an eye on Sophia and the two men. They were progressing slowly, Sophia looked like she was crying and generally resisting them. That was a good thing because it kept the two men busy and too distracted to notice what he was about to do. The men had parked Jake's car in a vacant driveway, probably with the intention of keeping the rather distinctive vehicle out of sight. Mal pulled up close and parked his car at right angles to the GTO, effectively boxing it in.

Glancing around, he found the men still out of sight, Mal got out of the car and crossed the distance to the GTO. Mal quickly glanced to check if anyone was in the car, then tried the trunk. He breathed a sigh of relief when it wasn't locked, but that sigh got stuck in his throat when he caught sight of Jake curled up in the trunk, eyes closed, skin very pale.

"What do you think you're doing here, old man?"

Mal whirled around to find the two men and Sophia had arrived at the driveway. One of the men was pointing a gun at him.

"Beat it!" the man with the gun ordered.

The other leaned close and whispered something to him. A grin spread over the gunman's face. "Well, look who we have here? What do they call it, two birds with one stone?"

"Stop it, just stop it!" Sophia suddenly wailed. "I'm coming with you, there's no need to hurt anyone!" She moved forward, in between the gunman and Mal.

"Stay out of this, Sophia. Please," Mal said.

The other man grabbed Sophia by the arm, pulling her out of the line of fire. "Go wait in the car," he ordered. With a last look at the men, Sophia turned and walked towards the passenger door of the GTO.

"Looks like you'll have to kill me," Mal remarked. "Because that's the only way I'll let you leave with her."

The heavy silence that followed was soon interrupted by the wail of sirens rapidly coming closer.

"Shit!" the gunman curse.

"Give me the gun," his companion demanded, earning himself a puzzled look before the gun was handed over to him. The first police car had drawn up in the street from which the driveway branched off. In a swift movement, the man now in possession of the gun crossed the three steps' distance to where Mal was standing.

"Hands in the air and drop your weapons!" The cry came from the direction of the street. The criminal who'd yielded his gun to his partner promptly complied when so obviously faced with superior firepower. His partner had no such notions however.

"You drop your weapons, or I kill him!" he called out. Having positioned himself between Mal and the rear end of Jake's car, he pointed his gun straight at Mal's head. Mal quickly considered his options: he could try and duck so as to give the police a free line of fire, but he risked getting shot first. The alternative was to do nothing for the moment and await developments. That however meant that Jake wasn't getting the help he needed, if it wasn't already too late. Mal made up his mind, but before he could act on his decision, there was a dull thud and he suddenly found himself thrown forward when something heavy fell on top of him.

There was yelling, the pounding of footsteps and general confusion for a moment before Mal managed to scramble back to his feet, the criminals being dragged off by police officers. Mal looked around, trying to figure out what had happened and spotted Jake, tire iron in hand, peering out of the GTO's trunk.

"Jake!"

"Dad...somehow, I don't...feel so hot," Jake muttered and collapsed into a heap, tire iron clattering to the ground.

oOo

"Honestly, Rose, I'm fine. I wasn't even knocked out, or anything," Tinny protested, lifting the tissue she had been pressing to the wound on her forehead. "I don't need a doctor." Tinny and Rose were sitting in an exam room, waiting for a doctor to see Tinny.

"Yes, you do. That gash looks like it needs stitches. Besides Mal'll never forgive me if you end up with a scar on your forehead," Rose argued.

Tinny shrugged. "Have you been able to reach Des?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, he should be getting here any time," Rose confirmed. "He was just going to drop of Sophia at Walter's first."

"I feel so sorry for Sophia," Tinny commented. "With her fiance dead, she really has nowhere to go, except back to her family."

The news of Chris death had reached them while Tinny had been with Sophia at the office, waiting for Rose and Mal to return from the hospital. Not surprisingly, Sophia had taken the news hard. She had been having a major meltdown when suddenly the office door had been broken down. The two men who'd entered had grabbed Sophia, knocking Tinny out of the way. She'd only been stunned for a moment and had already been back on her feet, albeit somewhat unsteadily when Rose had come rushing in.

"Des thinks he might have found an aunt living near Vancouver. He's trying to get in touch with her to see if Sophia can't stay with her, at least for a while," Rose told her.

"That's good," Tinny replied. "I just hope that Uncle Jake is going to be okay."

oOo

Balancing two cups of coffee in one hand, Rose used her free hand to open the door to the hospital room.

"Mal, I got you some..." Rose began, but broke off when she caught sight of Jake, motioning for her to be silent.

"Looks like he needs his beauty sleep, never seen him look this old," Jake whispered, his voice hoarse, indicating Mal who was sleeping in a chair near the bed.

"He's had a rough three days," Rose explained.

"He isn't the only. I feel like I've gone a few rounds and lost," Jake commented, stretching experimentally, but stopping with a wince.

"More than that, we were all pretty worried about you," Rose told him. It was true. It had taken all her negotiating skills to convince Mal, who hardly ever showed his worry for his son openly, to leave Jake's side even long enough to eat. It was only when the doctors had started to show confidence that Jake was on the road to recovery that Mal had agreed to trade shifts with Rose.

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" Jake replied, with a deprecating grin. "Now tell me, how's Leslie doing?" Suddenly, he was completely serious.

When Rose hesitated, he went on, alarmed. "She did make it, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did. Last I heard, she was recovering from surgery."

"Last you heard? What does that mean?" Jake's voice rose , as did the pace of the beeps emitted by the heart rate monitor.

"Calm down! I went to see her just after you'd been brought here. She threw me out and told me not to come back. Nikki told us yesterday that Leslie made it through surgery okay."

"I gotta see her," Jake insisted, trying to sit up.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Rose said, putting a restraining hand on Jake's uninjured arm.

"Rose? What..." Mal mumbled, having been woken by Rose's voice. Then he noticed who Rose was talking to.

"Jake! About time you woke up," he commented gruffly.

"Nice to see you too, Dad," Jake replied.

"I'll get a doctor," Rose excused herself, intending to give father and son some time. She quietly slipped out of the room.

oOo

"You know, Jake, I'm beginning to understand why Leslie is so mad at you. Do you have any idea what you put everyone through this time?" Mal ranted once Rose was out the door.

"You were worried!" Jake exclaimed triumphantly.

"No, I wasn't," Mal replied quickly, but without enthusiasm.

"Yes, you were. And speaking of worry, I really need to see Leslie. I've got to talk to her, make sure she's all right...and I need to apologize," Jake confessed.

"What makes you think she'll even see you? She made it pretty clear to Rose the other day that she doesn't want anything to do with you."

"I'll have to try at least," Jake argued.

"Maybe, but you're not going anywhere until your doctor okays it. I mean it," Mal added when Jake opened his mouth to protest.

oOo

Leslie was miserable and it wasn't her recent injury that was causing her to suffer. On the contrary, according the doctors, she was doing very well and was expected to make a full recovery, given time. Her sight had returned as had the feeling in her legs, following surgery to relieve the pressure on her brain. There was talk of her being allowed to return home in a few days' time.

But while everything looked like it was going well, internally, it was another matter entirely. It hadn't been so bad the first few days after her admission to the hospital - she had been too out of it – but now, after a full week of lying in hospital with only the occasional visitor to distract her, her mind has developed a life of its own.

Turning over the crash and the subsequent events in her mind as she might, her thoughts kept coming back to Jake Doyle. She had told Rose that she wanted nothing more to do with him, and part of her still believe that. Her head told her that putting distance between Jake and herself was the best, most sane thing she could do. But another part of her wanted, needed Jake in her life. She had tried hard to shut Jake out after he'd caused her to lose her job. At the time, it had felt like the final straw. In a way, it still felt that way and Jake's most recent actions had done nothing to convince her otherwise. Except, and that was the crux of the problem, she still loved him. Leslie's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Before Leslie could answer, the door was opened a by young nurse.

"You have a visitor!" she announced cheerily as she pushed in Jake Doyle in a wheelchair.

"Hi Leslie," he said once the nurse had left and closed the door behind herself. She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand.

"I know what you told Rose, and I only came here to say that I'm sorry," he began, then paused.

"No, you're not," the words erupted from Leslie before she could stop herself.

Jake swallowed. "I guess you're right. I would make that trade again every day, it was the right thing to do. You would have died if I hadn't made the deal."

"That's the problem!" Leslie exclaimed. "You just do whatever you think is right and you don't care about how anyone else feels about it. Maybe I didn't want you to trade your life for mine. Have you ever thought about that?"

Jake shook his head.

Leslie went on. "I have feelings for you, Jake Doyle, whether I like it or not. You do your best to trample all over them and frankly, I don't know what to do anymore. I can't go on trying to hate you but I can't love you either."

"I never meant to hurt your feelings," Jake said. "I care about you, I care about you a lot and I would never hurt you deliberately. I just don't always think things through," he admitted.

Leslie felt her anger wane and had to smile in spite of herself. Jake admitting that he was a hothead was not something she had thought she'd ever see.

"So, where do we go from here? Obviously, what we've been doing those past few months isn't working, for neither of us," Leslie eventually ventured.

"Well, Nikki told me that you'll be released in a few days, provided that somebody stays with you. I get out of here tomorrow, so you could come and stay with me while you recover," Jake suggested.

"I'd like that," Leslie replied, somewhat to her own surprise. What the hell, Leslie thought. Her head was telling her that this was a terrible idea, but then again, she had been listening to her head for the last few months and frankly, she'd been miserable and Jake had still been in her life, being his usual and often times exasperating self. When she was honest with herself, she wouldn't want it any other way. If she truly wanted Jake out of her life, she could have simply left town, made a fresh start somewhere else and forgotten all about Jake Doyle.

"So, does that mean we're giving 'us' another go?" Jake asked tentatively.

"Don't push it, Jake," Leslie said with what was mostly mock annoyance. "Let's just take it one day at a time," she added.

"Yes, let's. And don't forget the nights," Jake agreed, flashing her a triumphant grin.

"Oh, just stop it!" Leslie groaned.

"What? I'm not doing anything," Jake protested.

Leslie simply threw her pillow at him, laughing.

They still had a long way to go, but they had taken the first step. Leslie had no idea where exactly that path would lead them, but she was ready to find out.

The End

Author's Note: I suck at writing romance, so I decided to end it here, leaving the future of Jake and Leslie's relationship open ;-) I hope you enjoyed reading this little story, I certainly had fun writing it.


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